Chilled
by sparky8me2
Summary: Jimmy, Kim and an icebox. Also see Angelus' Kitten's fic "Kim Put On Ice" This is only my second TW fic, but I like reviews


Title: Chilled

Summary: Jimmy, Kim and an icebox. Also see kityofangelus' fic "Kim On Ice"

Rating: G

"Just meet me out front."

It's funny how well I know Kim. The slight tremor in her voice told me something was very wrong, but I didn't think she was in danger. I figured, at worst? What? Probably an argument with Bobby. She always comes to me when Bobby's done something to piss her off. And I know from the looks Bobby's given me at times that she goes running to him every time I've done something that's inadvertently hurt her.

This time it was big, though. I told her a couple weeks before that I was giving up the gambling. One good scare from my bookie's goons... They threatened to go after Kim if I didn't come up with five grand in an hour. I sold everything I had and promptly vowed I'd never gamble again. I loved Kim... I still do. If anything happened to her because of me...

So downstairs I go, expecting to hear the latest on What Bobby's Done This Time, except there's no Kim. Just some big, pretty pissed off looking guy standing outside a luxury car with tinted windows. Frowning, I ask the guy, "Who're you?"

The guy doesn't answer my question. Just tells me to get in the car or the man with a gun in Kim's ribs'll shoot her.

Well, what'd you think I'd do? I get in the damn car. I'm... beyond scared, but half of being brave is not letting people see how afraid you really are. What else could I do? Get in the damn car and try to reassure my ex-wife that somehow everything was gonna be okay.

It's a short drive. Or at least, it feels like it. Maybe that's because I was sure we were driving to at the very best a violent and bloody beating for yours truly. At the very worst... I don't wanna think about the very worst, because it would've left Joey without either of his parents and woulda been entirely my fault.

Anyway, soon as we're outta the car and inside the warehouse, there's Sam. He might be getting on in years, but he looks pretty damn scary when he's pissed. It might be just because I know what he's capable of, but he looks awfully scary right about now.

Slightly, my hand tightens around Kim's and I position myself in front of her protectively, generating laughter from Sam. "Don't get heroic on us now, Jimmy." He proceeds to tell me how he wants me back in the gambling circuit. He said if I agreed, then he'd let me go. But Kim was staying.

Yeah, right. Like I'm gonna leave Kim there with that psycho. I try promising him everything I own, but no dice. Sam orders one of his cronies to take Kim away and my biggest fear is the next sound I'm gonna hear is gonna be a gunshot.

It doesn't come, though. The next sound that I actually hear is Sam telling me how I screwed up by saying I'd give up the gambling for good. Followed quickly by him asking the returning goon what he had done with Kim.

The goon smirks a smirk that I know can only mean something bad and says he put her 'on ice.' On ice? I wonder. What the hell does that mean? I guess I'm about to find out because the next thing I know, I'm being manhandled into the same room as Kim, the heavy metal door slamming shut behind me and after a moment of silence, the click of a lock falling into place.

The first thing that hits me is the dark. There's a small light in one corner of the room and it takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust. And it's cold. Like middle of January cold. The phrase 'on ice' suddenly makes sense. Ice box. We're in an ice box. As my eyes adjust, I can make out meat hanging from hooks and Kim shivering against the cold.

"Oh, man, that had better be beef..." I mutter. I don't even want to think of any other possibilities, because there's nothing I can do about it right now and it'll just add to my fear that both of us could end up dead over this. I swear to God if we get out of this alive, I'll do everything I can to be a better person. Definately no more gambling.

"We're gonna get hypothermia in here," I swear I can hear Kim's voice shaking slightly. She's not dressed warm enough at all for this kinda cold. I have a heavy sweater on over a FDNY t-shirt, plus my fireman's jacket. So what can I do?

Obviously. I take off my coat and wrap it around Kim, telling myself I can handle the cold better than she can anyway. "It's gonna be okay, Kim. We're gonna get outta here," I assure her.

"That's not something I wanna go through again." With those words, I suddenly feel very guilty. It's my fault we're in this mess. I gotta find a way to get us out of here.

"It's not something you should've had to go through in the first place," a light bulb goes off in my head in the stream of thought focused on how to get us out. "You got your cell phone?" As soon as she turns it over, I check it. 'No Signal.' Damnit. I can't help muttering a curse and I catch Kim staring at me like it should have been obvious.

"Jimmy, we're in a metal box. There won't be a signal."

Oh yeah. Damnit. Well, it was worth a shot. Just going to have to come up with something else. I stick the phone back in Kim's- Well, my- pocket and take out a hat I forgot I had, pulling it down over her ears. She looks like she's getting colder. I'm getting colder. Starting to shiver more, wondering why it has to be so damn cold.

I wrap my arms tightly around her and rub her hands vigorously between mine, hoping the friction will help keep both of us a little warmer.

"Do you think anyone'll even notice we're missing?" She's not shaking so hard now, but I'm not sure if that's hypothermia or if she's really feeling a little warmer.

I was supposed to be working a twenty-four hour shift. I nod slightly, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. I don't want her knowing how cold I am. "Of course they will. Probably out looking for us now."

"Jimmy? I don't think that's animal on those hooks..."

Do we really have to go there? The cops can sort out what may or may not be on those hooks. "Don't even think about that." I see her eyes starting to close and I feel like shaking her out of desperation. "Hey, hey, hey. Eyes open!"

Her head tilts back a bit as her eyes open and she gives me a sleepy smile. "You've got pretty eyes."

Oh, no. She's gotta be delirious. How is it she can still be getting so much worse while she's got on so much more clothes than I do? I force a weak smile, "Y'know... you're probably the only person in the world I'd let get away with using me and pretty in the same sentence."

I try to keep us both babbling to stay awake. Even breaking into song at one point. Anything to drive our concentration away from how cold it is. I can see Kim's starting to slip away and soon, I'm not shivering any more. Which I know is a bad sign because I'm still so cold it hurts to breathe. Like my lungs are big blocks of ice.

Now it's her doing all the talking, telling me to stay awake, but my eyelids feel so heavy... Just need to close them... Just for a few seconds...

Muffled cries of, "Is anyone here?!" somehow manages to rouse me and I drag myself to the door of the icebox and start pounding with everything I've got left. The last thing I remember is the door opening and falling forward right into Officer Sullivan.

----

The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital. I think the first words out of my mouth were, "How's Kim?" She's okay, thank God. Her mother's taking care of Joey until we get out of the hospital. I dunno what I would've done if she had died because of me.

I mean, don't get me wrong... I know and I accept that me and Kim are at best going to be nothing more than friends. But she was my wife. She's the mother of my son...

And the only woman I've ever really loved.


End file.
